Page 51 of Spar of Hearts

You’ll do it again.

So why don’t you do something useful for once in your life and protect them from yourself?

“Roderick!” Octavio shook him by the shoulders. “Roderick, snap out of it!”

“Get away from me!” Hot panic seized Roderick’s chest and throat. “I don’t want to hurt you too!” His heart sped to a dizzying clip as he fled to the stern.

“Roderick!” Octavio shouted after him. “You can talk to me! I’m not afraid of you! We can figure this out!”

Roderick clambered onto Yomira’s back, startling her from her slumber.

Rod? Yomira grumbled. Her joints shifted and cracked beneath him as she rose.

“Take me away from here. Please,” he begged, clutching her horns.

Yomira craned her neck back. A single ruby eye bore into him.

The wyvern could see the tears in his eyes, the agony in his mind, and everything in his heart. She was the only being who could silence the voices.

All right. But we aren’t flying high, Yomira answered.

“I don’t care. Just go somewhere. Anywhere.”

“Roderick!” Octavio shouted over the flap of Yomira’s wings. The sails pulled on their ropes. Metal hooks clattered against each other.

“Where are you going?” He could barely hear Octavio’s voice.

The pounding in his head and heart swelled to new heights as the Lupus Star faded from view, forcing decades of tears from his eyes.

Anya’s mention of Millicent had driven him over the edge and brought him back to his final day as Percival Toulouse, the day his granddad died because of Roderick’s failure to follow orders, and the ill-fated promise he’d made to Millicent.

Twenty-One Years Ago

Percival Toulouse

Percy kept his eyes on the bowl of pear custard he was faithfully stirring until Granddad trailed in behind Papa. The door fell shut behind the two of them.

“Granddad!” Percy jumped down from the stool and hugged him tight around the waist. Granddad beamed at him, smiling so big his red eyes nearly squinted shut.

“Perce! Perce my boy!” He hoisted Percy onto his hip. “Ready to sleep under the stars?”

“Yes! I packed my own bag and everything!”

“This isn’t a pleasure trip,” Papa muttered, hanging his cloak on the hook by the door.

Granddad cupped a hand over his mouth and whispered, “Don’t listen to him, Perce. He’s afraid of bears.”

“You know damn well what I mean.”

Percy giggled as Granddad bounced him on his hip. “What’s for dinner, Sera?”

“Pheasant pie,” Mum hummed. “And pear custard for dessert, courtesy of my little helper there.”

Pride filled Percy’s chest. He opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by screams coming from outside.

“Let me go! Let me go!”

Papa and Granddad rushed to the window and drew the curtains, then peeked between the edge on either side.